Lully
Lully has returned with a bran new single called Wow Esme, the title track from his forthcoming new EP, set to arrive on April 20th! Wow Esme sees Lully boldly step forward and present himself in full, revealing his past and simultaneously putting forward his idea for the future. It's a beautiful piece of electronic music with an ethereal vibe to it! Stream it below!




Lully - aka Rudi Mikhail Zygadlo - was born in Scotland, where he started producing music at the tender age of twelve. He has since released two critically-acclaimed albums under his birth name on Planet Mu, toured with Julia Holter, Modeselektor and AlunaGeorge, not to mention being selected for the prestigious RBMA in New York and collaborate on projects variously with the likes of Tim Goldsworthy and Diplo/Mad Decent.

Upon finding a new sound, Rudi wished to create a new moniker. Enter Lully, an altogether more accessible pop-offering with a name taken from a composer whose music and tragic comic demise inspired him. Jean Baptiste Lully was the court composer of Louis IX, who founded French opera and revolutionised court dance with his boisterous style. His profligate lifestyle, however, eventually put him out of favour with Louis, and his performances were suspended. Following a period of penance, on his return to court Lully conducted a Te Deum dedicated to Louis, during which - whilst stamping the tempo with his great conducting staff - he accidentally stabbed himself in the foot. The wound grew gangrenous and Lully, also a professional dancer, refused to have it amputated (the gangrene thereafter spread to his brain). And so, having lived by the sword, he veritably died by the sword. Rudi drew mirth and satisfaction from the poetry of Jean Baptiste's music and death story - his music, both catchy and poignant; his death an encapsulation of the plight of an artist.

He accompanies Wow Esme with the following poem:

WOW ESME Doggerel

I spied these two men
Through a calcitic lens
Heralds of hope and disgust

They differed in tone
But in song they were sewn
Unto me, me alone, said they thus:

"Not waving but drowning
Not feigning; real frowning
A scolding hot crown sits upon

The invisible souls
Of the clowning pierrots
Whose infernal lows look like fun

With a swift Tenebrae
We extinguish the day
And the light. And the love. And the heat

A b’ligerence returns
With the dusk and wax-burns
With the Dark. And the cold witch's teat."

Now madrigals project
From my speaker set
A truth misconstrued as a cuss.

No meta data
Makes lines any straighter
Or empathy greater ‘mongst us

'Cause how can we see
Through apertures squeez’d
The anchor escap2.jpgement of man

We’re lost in the desert
With a stick and some effort
Tracing self portraits in sand.